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felonyharlem
felonyharlem
21/F/Neverland I was never good at describing myself. I guess I never really could. After all, how do we know which facets in our personalities are permanent? I may love pop music now but what's to say I won't grow and aversion to it tomorrow? People change. So will I.
My lungs breathed in disdain Whem you mentioned her name And that's when I knew I had to stay away from you
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May 17, 2021
May 17, 2021 at 3:51 AM UTC
Jealousy
. . . To my sister's flower painting A canvas only half full With the beautiful strokes and lines What use are roses and daisies When half the canvas is white. To my brother's academic life As he studied many nights He wanted a college degree But it required four years And he could only give three. To my Aunt's first novel That sits with thirty-three chapters She said there'd be forty-four But she died before She could write them all. To all the unfinished things To those who couldn't touch their dreams To those who didn't get their happy endings To you and me.
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Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 10:33 PM UTC
At least finish this poem
The busy streets outside Are muted by the radio. Fancy cafes are far from reach; Fast food's the place we go. We both belong to provinces At this time the cars are parked at home. If it were any other day We'd be lying on our beds alone. But we stole a little moment, We took what we could get. We've got twenty minutes at McDonald's To make memories we can't forget. My head draws me a future And it's filled with misery. The only outcome I predict Is a friend too far from me. I am irrationally jealous Of the new people you'll face Anxiety dictates One of them take my place And it used to bother me, How much I trusted you. I'd found a genuine friend In a world filled with fools. But I have learned to let go. I know you cannot stay. No matter what I want, I cannot fight this fate. But I can treasure these minutes, They don't need to be intense. Conversations with you Will stay long in my head. I won't tell you I love you, That you're far more than a friend. How unwise it would be To start something that has to end. Tomorrow I bid farewell The hopes my heart had set on you. The way I marvel at your simplest move, You'll remain without a clue. But I'll memorize this moment And the smile in your face. We've created a happy memory At 9:28
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Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 9:04 PM UTC
9:28
Silence Was my reply When you told me you loved me. Time stood still for us two As I pondered on the thought Of being deceitful Or being true. You on the revelation That maybe-- Or perhaps What I felt for you Was temporary. Not a word came out of our mouths And my silence echoed through our heads As finally you realized Just what my silence meant.
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Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 3:07 AM UTC
For Chris
. . . When the music pounds, And lights dance across the room I'm at home Far away from you When the dance floor is filled And your mind is a mess I lie at my bed And silently obsess When the bottle meets your lips Your mind works a little less I wonder who it is You're trying to forget.
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Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 10:57 PM UTC
Is it me or her?
The smell of smoke is strong and my dog's hiding behind the sofa. I'm barefoot in the veranda, ridiculously expensive wine in hand. The sky is dark but often lit by sparks. Boom. There's a flash of light. Boom. I remember how your hands grasped mine. Boom. Pretty fireworks. Boom. You looked only at me, told me I was prettier. And just like that, every New Year's was us. I still think about how it was back then. How it was not quite movie romantic. There was no background music. If there were no fireworks, the explosive sounds could make it feel like a war zone. But we wouldn't have cared anyway. Because amidst all the noise and smoke, you kissed my lips and suddenly I didn't need movie romance or background music. Millions were spent on fireworks designed to stain the sky with colors but somehow I could look only at you. Even now, I still search for you. I miss out on the the sky's ostentatious display and I know it's pathetic but just for a moment I want to remember what it felt like to be yours. How your lips tasted like strawberry champagne. How your skin felt when you linked our arms together. How you pressed your lips against my forehead and we both closed our eyes. After New Year's, when the dust has cleared and the sky is just the sky, I belong to myself again. I wash my wine glass and ignore the fact that I'm all alone. I cannot help but wonder if you're thinking of me too when the black sky was momentarily yellow or green or red. Perhaps we're apart, but watching the moon. But, until next New Years, we'll go our separate paths again.
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Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 10:08 PM UTC
Fireworks
The smell of smoke is strong and my dog's hiding behind the sofa. I'm barefoot in the veranda, ridiculously expensive wine in hand. The sky is dark but often lit by sparks. Boom. There's a flash of light. Boom. I remember how your hands grasped mine. Boom. Pretty fireworks. Boom. You looked only at me, told me I was prettier. And just like that, every New Year's was us. I still think about how it was back then. How it was not quite movie romantic. There was no background music. If there were no fireworks, the explosive sounds could make it feel like a war zone. But we wouldn't have cared anyway. Because amidst all the noise and smoke, you kissed my lips and suddenly I didn't need movie romance or background music. Millions were spent on fireworks designed to stain the sky with colors but somehow I could look only at you. Even now, I still search for you. I miss out on the the sky's ostentatious display and I know it's pathetic but just for a moment I want to remember what it felt like to be yours. How your lips tasted like strawberry champagne. How your skin felt when you linked our arms together. How you pressed your lips against my forehead and we both closed our eyes. After New Year's, when the dust has cleared and the sky is just the sky, I belong to myself again. I wash my wine glass and ignore the fact that I'm all alone. I cannot help but wonder if you're thinking of me too when the black sky was momentarily yellow or green or red. Perhaps we're apart, but watching the moon. But, until next New Years, we'll go our separate paths again.
Continue reading...
23
"You're textbook." She said, Brimming with logic and reason. Full of knowledge and facts, But quite devoid of emotion. You're meant to enlighten, Yet you're difficult to understand. Written by intelligent people, With doctrines prestigious and grand. Your black and white pages Intimidate inferior minds. Their heads spin round and round, They struggle to perceive your lines. "But you're not full textbook." She added. "I've seen emotion here and there. And perhaps a little friendly love, It's present, however scarce. You feel rage, you feel love, Caring, you had to start. But then again, you're sometimes cold. So I'll call you textbook-- with a heart."
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Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 9:57 PM UTC
Textbook
Her pretty face Should've stayed away He was always mine. You do not know How far I'll go For your love to decline. This dance I've swayed, This game I've played, ***** tricks I'll use. You've been warned Next time I'll harm Be thankful you're just bruised.
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Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 9:32 AM UTC
Possessive
slightly naughty but actually nice mean and somehow kind often foolish sometimes wise an angel with a devil's smile
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Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 8:46 AM UTC
Bio
He was a novel I was the chapter I begged And begged to be his happy ending.
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 8:37 PM UTC
Chapter